Anthony
by You'reMyKindOfTrouble
Summary: Yeah, this is exactly what you think it it. I'm sorry (but not really)! Set in 'The Farm' arc. Daryl has a tendency to bring home baby animals or ex-pets, provided they're safe enough to be around the kids. He'd brought home some rabbits to breed for meat, and a hodge-podge flock of chicken, but none of his finds were quite as interesting as Anthony the Turtle.
1. Chapter 1

**I posted this on ninelives ages ago and forgot to post it here... Basically, I saw that 'Bad Lip Reading' video and because I'm silly those sorts of things amuse me greatly, so I ficced it!**

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><p>"Daryl!" Beth cried as she stormed into the end stall, where the group stored all their tools and weapons. Daryl was in there with Michael, teaching him how to make arrows for the crossbow and the collection of hunting bows they'd gathered.<p>

"What happened?" He looked up, mildly alarmed.

"I hate that freakin' turtle!" She wailed. He noticed then that she was wearing shorts and no shoes, and she was wet from the knee down.

"His _name_ is Anthony!" Daryl shot back with a smirk.

"Yeah, Beth!" Michael chimed in. "And it's because you were in his pool, anyway! If you stayed out of it, he wouldn't do drive-by's on your toes!"

She gave a whine of irritation. "I'm about to do a drive-by on Anthony!" She howled. "He bit me! _Again!_"

Daryl snorted in amusement. "You keep away from my turtle!" He jabbed a finger at her from his perch on a hay bale, with half-finished arrows scattered around him.

"I was only in there to clean out his pool!" She protested. "You ain't doin' it and I swear he's _mushy_ when you pick him up!"

"What on Earth is all this fuss?" Carol exclaimed playfully as she paused in the doorway. She placed her hands on her hips and took in the situation.

Beth was standing barefoot in the stall, hands on her hips. Her legs were wet, and she had a tiny nick on the side of her foot. Daryl and Michael were sitting side-by-side on adjacent hay bales, both working to keep straight faces. After a moment, Michael broke into youthful giggles and Daryl spluttered into laughter, nudging the boy to try and quiet him. Beth _humph_ed and tried to glare, but she too gave way to reluctant giggles.

Carol knew what the issue was instantly. "Anthony?" She asked, trying to smother her own laughter with her hand.

"Of course it's Anthony!" Beth wailed, laughing despite herself. "He keeps biting me every time I go near him!"

Carol couldn't contain herself as she laughed at Beth's helpless expression.

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><p>Daryl had a habit of bringing home the odd baby animal or stray ex-pet, provided they were friendly enough to be safe around the kids. Over the four years they'd been on the farm, he'd brought a few rabbits in, enough to breed them for their meat. He'd also gathered a hodge-podge flock of chickens of varying breeds, a couple of barn kittens and two dogs.<p>

His most interesting find, however, had been Anthony the turtle.

He'd come into the house, freshly showered and carrying a bundle of dirty clothes. He'd kissed her soundly and enquired about her day, the kids, if there was any dinner left over. She'd just brought out the food she'd saved for them both and they were about to eat, when he'd bolted up from the table with a hissed "Oh shit!" and hurried down to the laundry basket in the non-functioning bathroom. He'd returned a little later, cradling something in one palm, looking a little abashed.

"Y'wouldn't have any idea what t'do with his, would'ya?" He'd extended his hand towards her, and in it had laid the smallest turtle she'd ever seen. It was a little shorter in length than his thumb and a brownish-green colour.

She'd put it in a plastic tray with a little water, a little mountain of soil, and some greens from the garden she'd kept aside for their dinner. She had no idea how to care for a baby turtle, but she'd figured she'd ask around in the morning if anyone was an undisclosed turtle-rearing expert.

Michael had been ecstatic when he'd come out the next morning. He'd had to release his pet turtle when his family fled the house, and he was delighted to have another. As such, the tiny turtle had been christened 'Anthony', for some unfathomable reason, and Michael had successfully raised him to the size of Daryl's hand.

They'd used a child's paddling pool as a home for him, one end full of soil and earthworms (for when Anthony felt peckish, according to Michael), with some flat river-rocks to sun himself on, and the other with knee-deep water that was switched out for clean water every few days. With the soaring summer temperatures, most of the residents of the farm would stand in the cool water for a few minutes to cool their feet and lower the temperature of their tired legs. Most people managed it with no issues, but for some reason, Anthony had an insatiable craving for Beth's toes. He occasionally nipped other people, but Beth never escaped unscathed. It was a source of undying entertainment for Daryl and Michael, and usually got a good-natured cackle from any witnesses.

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><p>Caleb was the next person to fall victim to Anthony's appetite for toes. Seven-year-old Judith was standing by, supervising, whilst Caleb, now three, splashed playfully in the water. He was giggling one moment, wriggling his toes in the mud in the bottom of the pool, and howling pathetically the next. Judith hauled him out in fright and called for Carol and Daryl until Daryl came racing around the corner and into the area where the animal hutches were situated, crossbow ready to fire. When he saw it was Caleb squalling next to the turtle pool, he realised what had happened and relaxed.<p>

He reassured Judith that she hadn't done anything wrong and scooped up the sobbing boy. He glanced at the cut and decided it was really just a deep scratch. It would probably scar, but once Carol had cleaned it up he would be fine.

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><p>That night, Carol and Daryl sat on the couch in the light of the two bulbs, powered by their solar panels, and sat in silence whilst Daryl rubbed her feet.<p>

"Who would'a thought I'd end up so damn domesticated…" Daryl snickered.

"As long as you keep doing that, I might be persuaded to keep my mouth shut." She teased back.

"Caleb was a real drama queen about that turtle bite." He commented. "Fuckin' thing's becomin' a menace."

"I don't think he's ever had a boo-boo in his life," She agreed. "But he thinks he's all tough with his little scar… He's such a badass." She laughed.

"Runs in the family." Daryl commented, wriggling his eyebrows at her.

"Coming from the man giving me a foot rub right now?"

He chuckled, before bending down and pressing a kiss to the top of her foot. "You keep your mouth shut about this." He threatened playfully. "Or no more foot rubs for you."

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><p><strong>I'm a little sorry for this nonsense :P Reviews are always appreciated! I hope you liked it!<strong>


	2. Response to Reviews

I know I'm not supposed to post anything that isn't actually a fic (naughty me!) but really, I feel like some reviewers need a little educating.

I got four reviews (yay!) for this fic but two of them appear to have come from one person, and suffice to say, _somebody_ missed the point of fanfiction.

I've been accused of trying to start a shipping war! On one hand, I feel like I've finally made it in the fanfiction world, but on the other I'm a little concerned. The first guest review reads "Uhm, why would you take something that is actually funny and turn it into a shipping war?" and the second one reads "Can you not? Anthony is beth and Daryl's thing, not carol and Daryl's who btw is like a mother to daryl. Write what you want, but don't start a shipping war by claiming beth is a child, because the only child I see around here is you."

Ouch. Right in the feels.

The problem is I didn't say anywhere in the story that Beth is a child. I actually like Beth, a lot, but according to Greg Nicotero the apocalypse has been happening for eighteen months, which would make Beth seventeen-and-a-half years old (A child). Additionally, surprise! _I_ am seventeen! (A child.) So ten points to you for your mad math skills.

I'm not going to begrudge any Bethyl shipper their shipping rights, but if someone reads something by a self-proclaimed Caryl shipper and then gets angry that *holy crap* they've been reading a Caryl fic? I'm not sure how to react to that. I appreciate that you don't like Caryl, and I don't ship Bethyl, but I would never, _ever_ intentionally read a fic that makes me angry and then personally attack the author just because I didn't actually check to see who the characters would be (Carol and Daryl were in those little square 'relationship' brackets, plain as day) before I read it. I know a common Bethyl opinion is that Carol is like a mother to Daryl, and that's okay because that's how you interpret their relationship, but I interpret the Beth and Daryl relationship to be something of a sibling (or even close friendship) sort of thing. I agree that some sort of bond was formed when they were together for those two episodes, but the nature of that bond is open to audience interpretation as far as I'm concerned.

And now, because I'm a bit ticked off, I'm going to pick your argument to pieces. Ready? 'Anthony' is _not_ Beth and Daryl's thing. 'Anthony' is a result of somebody's (hilarious) attempt to lip-read TWD. That's like saying that 'Carl Poppa' is canon.

This is in no way, shape, or form an attempt to start a shipping war. A shipping war fic would probably involve Carol saying how horrible and yuck and skanky and irresponsible Beth is, and Daryl going 'yeah, I hate that little so-and-so' and then the closing A.N would involve 'ur ship is gross and yuck and your dumb for shipping it lol I hope you die of cancer and your fave character dies lol!1!1!1' which, unless I actually cannot read, is _not_ what my story did. I think Beth brings a lot of sweetness and lightness to the show and I adore her as a character, but Bethyl just isn't something I ship.

Thanks for the reviews to georgiapeachs and Little Cinch, though! I'm glad I made you smile!


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